Namely Narrators
by Blue Yeti
Summary: On the Hogwarts Express the guys get bombarded with crazy dead guys, very, very strange little boys and other suitably bad things.


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Namely Narrators

Chapie no. 1 – Nebulous Narrators

By Blue Yeti

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Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK and the other people she stupidly handed the keys of Harry Potter to. But the plot…um…story - this insanely **weird** and out of character story. (For me and the HP characters.) That is the result of high altitude, Fanfiction withdrawal, a lack of computer that made me write it all out with a bad pen and a favorite author not letting her characters tell anyone about becoming animagi when they really should have – all belongs to me. [Deep breath 'coz that sentence was even longer before this rusty, broken laptop started shooting zig-zag lines at me.]

In the compartment second from the middle of the 3rd last carriage of the Hogwarts Express, 5 morally inspiring heroes were having many important theological and Earth-shattering debates. The fate of the world as we know it has rested many times on these young and tired shoulders many times and this eternal pressure has taken it's toll on our gallant and wonderfully…_beaute_ guys.

"I'm a girl you idiot!!" rang the sweet, clear voice of Hermione Granger. And her decisively _feminine_ features glowed in anger at…[small and very scared swallow] …me. I'm really, sorry Hermione; I just thought it sounded cool. Don't let her hurt me Harry! Come on, Fred, George, I always laughed at all your jokes.

"Colin, I don't think you've realized this before. You _are_ the joke." [Background kick and the sound of whimpering.] "Okay, before our dopey narrator interrupted the natural flow of the story we were NOT talking about anything Earth-shattering, only 'bout what me and Fred are going to do now we've finished Hogwarts. What the hell is Earth-shattering about that."

"Well according to Professor Trelawney, I'm going to have an Earth-shattering job. I was just practicing for it. You don't have to be so mean about it."

"Oh, and what are you going to do?" the question was polite and sounded honest enough, but was followed by… "I know, you're going to get a job as an executioner and annoy the convicts to death, till they plead for euthanasia. You're really very good at it."

"NO!! Professor Trelawney told me on my last Divination lesson this year, just before the exams. She sorta' went all strange and …butch of something. She told me that I was going to have a sex change, use the name Joanne Rolling or something strange, and then write a whole series of books about you, Harry. Apparently they're going to be for Muggles and are going to be the way to introduce the Magical World to the next Muggle generation and so create World Peace."

All five sat in very, very stunned silence until Ron said, "Why on Earth would you change your name to Rolling? I mean Creevy is pretty close to 'Creepy', but…"

And the next sound was Fred with, "Hey who are you narrator guy?!" Whoopsy! I forgot to introduce myself. Hi, I'm Andrew Weasley, a certified and qualified narrator. Here's my Narratoral License, got it only last month. [A giant, wrinkled hand popped into existence somewhere between the ceiling and the floor. It was holding a magically laminated card with a picture of a bald man whose main features were the excessively long, red nose and ear hairs. It read 'Andrew Weasley, Qualified English Narrator.] It's all official; I'm your narrator. Ah, I can see that you want to say something Harry.

"Um.." No wait for me. Come on, [exaggerated clearing of a throat] and then Harry, in a state of mild shock said, "I'm not shocked!" Well, I always wanted to use that line. Okay, okay, Then Harry emotionally stated, "I'm not stating anything…other than the fact of stating that I wasn't about to state anything and so did not need a line saying that I was about to state anything_, because I wouldn't have needed to if you hadn't said that I was about to state something!! And I **definitely** wasn't emotional about it!!_" You look pretty emotional to me right now. "But, I'm only emotional about the fact that you said that I was emotional so could you please not jump the gun with how we're feeling. How about you wait until after we've said something and then you do your part with who said what. 'Kay? Good!"

"Now, I'd only wanted to ask if that guy was your Granddad or something? Is he Ron?" Oh, of course not, I'm their Great-Uncle Andy. If Arthur were _my_ son, I'd have killed myself ages before, not that it really would have made much difference in the long run. Arthur was a horrible boy, really, really, dreadful. I'm not being a very good narrator, am I? I can see you all shaking your heads a tad excessively.

"Um…Great-Uncle Andy? Um, aren't you dead? Not meaning to be rude or anything. I mean we all thought that you died, like 8 or 9 years ago. You had bowel cancer or a tumor…or something."

Fancy not knowing how I died Fred, it was a horrible death. I was on holiday in Australia when I received a particularly bad Billywig sting. This caused me to hover right into the lair of a migrating Opaleye dragon. He was angry, real angry. I fought him well, but after an hour or so he finally got the better of me and I ended up drowning in a Billabong near a Coolabah tree. I haunted around there for a while asking around for your Great-Aunt Matilda - to see that she didn't give away my prize collection of Rotary badges. Some of the locals thought that I was the ghost of a long-dead bushranger or swagman who went around waltzing with some slut called Matilda. Bloody nuisance that was, so I transferred to heaven and then I found out that it's so boring up there that you have to have a job, so I chose narrating because I've always liked to talk. However, I'm not a chatterbox, I only ever talk when I have reason to. Some of the young surf-riding scum just stay on the dole and live their deaths off us; I really don't approve of that sort. You have to have a proper job up there or you get no respect. We've got the regular jobs, accountants, reporters with 'The Heavenly Times', hairdressers of course, even tour agents and dentists. Then there are the jobs for people up there, for down here - Narrators, Saints, Guardian Angels, you'd be amazed about the number of Fates needed…you get it? Of course you do. I was talking to a saint just the other day. She was telling me all about the situations over in Bangladesh where a – 

"Excuse me Uncle, but aren't you meant to be narrating what _we're_ doing. Because we want to keep on with what we were talking about."

"Hang on Ron! This is really, interesting. We are getting an overview of heaven. And don't you want to talk to your Uncle. I would love to talk to my Auntie Linda if she was here."

"HERMIONE!! You _haven't_ read the book 'Tea with a Dead Guy' by Alamosa Jinks!! Oh My God!! Just memorize that one and you know it all. And you don't have a clue when it comes to families. Harry hates his Aunt and Uncle. And I don't like all my family either. You heard him bagging out my Dad before. I don't have to like him, and I don't!"

"Fine!!"

"Fine!!"

Harry rolled his eyes at me (your narrator) to say that this happened all the time and was part of a complex and stupid Love/Hate relationship. Now he's looking at me strangely to say that the eye rolling was only to convey his perplexity over this type of relationship. "I ONLY MENT THAT THEY ARE BLOODY IDIOTS!!" I can just see that you're dying to ask about your parents. Ha Ha! Did you get it? My pun? "I didn't want–" No you didn't did you, oh well I'll think up another one. Oh yes, Lily and James Potter, they're up there with us all. They asked me to say hi to you from them. There was some other stuff about Pride and Honour and all that Bullcr*p. I must say I'm not terribly fond of those two. A bit creepy and both horribly snobbish. Didn't think that a narrator was a proper job. Went for all the "specialist" jobs as Guardian Angels and Guiding Spirits. It's a scandal that they can even have that type of attitude! They're as dead as the rest of us! They get all the special treatment too – all the dying for a cause sh*t. I died _from_ a cause. Bloody martyrs! Stealing all the jobs that us merely dead mortals never see a glimpse of. Horribly, horrible sort they are! Always prancing around in their white robes and shiny wings…AHHHHHH!!!!!!! [Sound of a trapdoor and a heavy thud.] 

And the cabin was silent for the first time since Andrew Weasley entered and made his presence felt by all. Now the lack of that presence and the blessed silence was felt and empathized by echoing sighs of relief. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley smiled tentatively at each other and Harry Potter let out his clenched fists and the breath that was the only thing stopping him from punching an invisible dead guy.

"Thank God that's over!!"

End Chap 1 Nebulous Narrators (1440 words) 

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AN: This will have a mild level of plot. (You wouldn't want to actually have to start thinking while reading fanfiction.) It will have a bad guy and bad things happening to the good guys just embarrassing-type bad things. But I won't post till I get reviews, and it's all already written. So please review. 

I'm also looking round for a beta reader – nothing major, cause I can deal with grammar and spelling pretty well. (Spellcheck can anyway.) I just want someone to tell me if stories are crap _before_ I post them. Someone to help me deal with Harry Potterisms, cliched things and maybe someone who knows how to make the little accent things appear over letters so I can spell words like "cliche" right. E-mail me if you can. I'm also open to do a bit of beta reading myself. Thanks. 


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